


the marauders: broken boys and sticky tape

by cows_are_cool



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Marauders
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-17 23:01:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5888590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cows_are_cool/pseuds/cows_are_cool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The marauders all came from haunted pasts all tried to be better, to be happy, but sometimes the past likes to keep up with you and sometimes it takes over. These are the stories of the broken boys, how they tried to repair themselves and each other and how they died.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. James Potter

**Author's Note:**

> no copy right intended

James Potter was the only child of two elderly parents who struggled to have him. This of course meant he was loved and cherished and spoilt but it also meant he was smothered in the pressure to succeed, to be a proper and well behaved heir of the Potter line.

Naturally when he went to Hogwarts without his parents constant oppression he went wild. James while still working hard to achieve what his parents expected mark wise, could now however act how he wished. He could chew with his mouth open, slouch at the table, laugh too loudly and prank other students. He extremely enjoyed Hogwarts and, while he would never admit it to his beloved mother as not to unset her, he preferred Hogwarts to home.

Over the years owls were sent home detailing all his misbehaviour for his parents who would yell and punish and attempt to mould the boy back to the way he was before Hogwarts into the perfect Potter heir that he never was on the inside. After an hour or two they would usually give up and exasperatedly sigh “you’ll be the death of me boy” before leaving him to his own devices.

Shortly after his seventeenth birthday his misbehaviour stopped. He was still a fairly loud and charming boy who got up to mischief with his friends, but he didn’t misbehave. Those who didn’t know better attributed this to Lily Evans, but every one close to James Potter new the sorrowing truth that he held close to his chest. He was no longer the Potter heir.

He was head of the family.

And he blamed himself, his parents had always told warned him.

A couple years later at his wedding he laughed and joked and appeared to be having the time of his life, and while he was happy beyond belief to call Lily Evans his forever, he couldn’t help the sobering fact that his mother should be here crying and fussing over the two of them his father should be looking on proudly and sharing unwanted advise when the liquor started to pour.

And not many months after when he was holding his son, baby Harry, and he was over joyed and glowing right beside his wife he could help but wish it wasn’t the healer taking the photo but his mother who would tut at his posture and how he held the baby for the camera.

And as Harry grew from a baby too a toddler he wished he could owl his father for advice instead the Longbottom’s or the Weasley’s. Wished Harry had a grandmother to love and spoil him.

But all these wishes and secret desires, things he didn’t tell Lily in fear she would see him in a different light, he could not have because he had misbehaved as a child at Hogwarts he hadn’t been the perfect Potter heir like his parents wanted.

He wasn’t going to put any such pressures on Harry, Harry would never hear James tell him to be the proper little boy that James was raised to be, he wouldn’t raise a perfect Potter heir, he would raise a son.

On October 31st the Potter’s front door was knocked down by the dark lord and without his wand, without a weapon, without a plan, while his wife and child ran James Potter stood before the most feared wizard as the perfect Potter heir. His spine was straight and chin high just like his mother always told him, his face blank of all emotion as his father taught him was best in bad situations and his eyes full of hatred.

The dark lord killed him in a flash of green light because he blocked the way and stepped over his body.


	2. Sirius Black

Sirius Black was seven years old when he convinced his five year old brother Regulus to open the gate to the quaint front garden and go with him to the muggle playground down the road. There Sirius met a muggle boy of eight who Sirius was instantly fascinated with and while Regulus stayed close by his side he was always checking over his shoulder. The boy was taller than Sirius with short blond hair and a big grin, he didn’t laugh when Sirius asked how the flying fox worked and he told Sirius all about his father’s motorcycle.

When Mrs Black found her sons later that day she dragged them both home by the ear. When she started to lecture them about leaving the house, the brothers held hands under the kitchen table. When she started lecturing about associating with muggle filth Regulus nodded, apologised and agreed.

Sirius dropped his hand.

“He was good fun and smart and his parents own a shop that gets lots of money and he didn’t smell bad at all” Sirius defended.

That was the first time his mother hit him, the first time he was beaten in that kitchen and the first time that Regulus ran away to hide in his room and cry.

Over the next few years after ever defensive remark in terms to muggles and mudbloods that Sirius made, every word or act that wasn’t befitting of the heir of Black, after the beatings that would follow Regulus would sneak into his big brothers room help him clean up and beg him to pretend to not like muggles and to act like mother told him to.

Sirius refused from this young age to be anyone but himself and he had the scars, the nightmares and the self-esteem to show just how little his mother cared for the real Sirius.

When Sirius went to Hogwarts and was sorted in to Gryffindor it was a breath of fresh air. People who loved him the way he was, people just like him and people who accepted all his bumps and bruises with their own.

With his three best friends who encouraged him to be himself, who sat up with him nights when the nightmares were too much and distracted him with jokes and pranks and genuinely loved him he slowly came to hate the one person he loved be for them.

Regulus.

Regulus had always wanted him to be different, to pretend and while he did it out of love Sirius’s resentment for his younger brother slowly grew as did Regulus’s for Sirius and he wasn’t being the big brother he so desired.

Years past and the Black brothers once holding hands under the kitchen table while their mother yelled now glared across the Great Hall at one another. One brother on the path to defend the innocent and be himself the other on the path of evil to make his parents happy.

When Regulus died in his seventh year Sirius stood in the back of the funeral hiding for his mother and grieved for the little boy who was scared to walk out the front gate, who would help him after the beatings and sing to him at night. He mourned for the innocent gentle peace keeping boy Regulus was.

And while morning his younger brother’s death he learned of the death of his best friend and the emotions would not stay caged inside him.

He left his apartment to kill Peter Pettigrew, and he never came back.

Sitting in Askaban every childhood memory seemed to flash through his head continuously every single time he felt pain played over and over again. Played on repeat. But all his pain fuelled the one other thought in his head, the one thought that did not cause pain.

Pettigrew.

After he escaped he swam for miles.

Pettigrew. Pettigrew. Pettigrew.

He ran from town to town, searching.

Pettigrew. Pettigrew. Pettigrew He lived off of garbage and rodents.

Pettigrew. Pettigrew. Pettigrew

And when he finally had Pettigrew in his grasp he got away. But he got Harry.

Harry who looked just like James. Harry who needed to be loved and cared for.

And so, Pettigrew. Pettigrew. Pettigrew, was pushed to the back of his mind for Harry, Harry, Harry.

Harry who needed protection and love. Harry who seemed to always be in danger. Harry who looked like James.

And so when the time came to rush to Harry’s side, to fight with and protect him, there was no hesitation or second thought, there was barely a first thought just the constant pulsing that was Harry, Harry, Harry.

And so jumping to defend Harry’s back from his deranged cousin, with a clever curse from Harry, and a flash back to his younger years, Sirius Black, in a flash of green light, fell into the veil.


	3. Peter Pettigrew

Peter was a quiet only child, he didn’t know any other children his age and he was never one to go looking for trouble. He stayed at home mostly staying out of his mother’s way as she came and went, trying to go unnoticed as was his mother’s preference. It’s not that she wasn’t a good mother or didn’t love him it was just that Peter was a reminder of a bad memory.

His mother had only been fourteen when he was born, she had been attacked by a malicious wizard who was now in Azkaban, Peter had never met his father and hoped he never would. And so his mother would get on with her life around him as a young and vibrant witch and sometimes she would want him to be a part of it. He loved it when she did, they would play a game or cook together and Peters favourite part was that when these times came at the end of the day he could curl up in his mother’s arms and go to sleep with her that night, completely happy and content.

And so many of Peter Pettigrew’s days were spent sitting at the front window watching people go about their business imagining what it would be like to be amongst people and play with the children he saw. But he never left the house never ventured out to make friends, he didn’t know how.

When he turned eleven he got a terrifying letter, one he both was eager and petrified to read. His Hogwarts acceptance letter. He of course would be going but the thought of leaving his home, his mother, his comfort zone scared him to death. And while all these things plagued him, that day he got his letter was the best of his life. His mother became vibrant and bright towards him, they hugged and chatted and had a marvellous day, Peter soaking up the attention. His favourite part however was that it wasn’t a one-day thing like usual it lasted all month.

His mother was vibrant and happy and loving she cooked his favourite things and hugged him constantly and took him shopping with her, something she rarely did before and they had massive ice-cream cones as they browsed the used book store. Peter loved it, it was the best month of his life as far as he was concerned and he couldn’t bare to think it would end on September first.

But eventually September first came and he was tearful in his mother’s embrace as she farewelled him telling him to write and that she would see him for the summer.

And so little Peter Pettigrew scared and alone climbed on to the Hogwarts express and found an empty compartment.

Hogwarts was strange and big and scary, but he did it he made friends, good friends funny friends who joke and laugh and play like the children he would watch out his window would. And so he grew up forever faithful to and trying to impress his friends revelling in the times he got attention and was a part of a group. Soon peter wasn’t vying for his mother’s affections but for his friends and soon a girl’s.

Mary McDonald was a quiet and shy girl always with an easy smile and kind heart. Peter started crushing on her in his sixth year and it didn’t take long for his friends to catch on. And so thanks to a lot of prodding from James, Sirius and Remus he and Mary started dating at the end of seventh year.

He was smitten, he would do anything for her, be anything for her, as far as Peter was concerned she was his soul mate and he felt at home, comfortable and welcome with her for the first time in his life.

One night a couple months after James’s and Lily’s wedding Peter and Mary were strolling through muggle London eating ice cream. Mary loved doing this watching the muggles get on with their everyday life it gave her perspective on the war they were fighting. This night however was different.

They came out of the shadows. They pinned him to the cement, his cone crushed to his chest the cold reflecting his panic. He struggled and screamed and tried to fight but he couldn’t get free.

He watched as the attacked Mary, as they violated and tortured her, listened as she screamed and begged and saw the death eaters apperate with her battered, bloody and naked form.

“everyone will assume her dead, body never recovered” one death eater whispered in his ear “you are to act like you believe it believe she is gone. But know we have her, know if you do what we say we won’t kill her” and with that he to disappeared.

And so Peter did as he was told he spilled the secrets the order held, and he searched and tried to find a way to get Mary back in his arms the diamond ring he was going to give her that night never leaving his pocket.

And soon the biggest test of his love for Mary came he held the secret to where the Potters lived, where baby Harry was hidden. He tried to hide the secret he didn’t come forward, Mary would not forgive him for sacrificing a child for her return and safety he knew she would rather die. So he kept the secret.

But at the end of October the Dark Lord found out, dove into his mind and learnt that he was not sharing all his information. He was tortured until they gave up he was a blubbering mess of blood and flesh twitching on the floor that is when they bought out Mary, when her screams filled his ears and her eyes rolled into the back of her head.

He told them. The Potters secret spilled from his lips as the woman he loved screamed before him. And as he did, as he realised what he had done and what it meant there was a green flash of light.

Mary lay there eyes wide body battered but unmoving. Peters mind shut down and he stared at the love of his life lying before him thin and frail and bloody and dead.

Then the Potters died, he couldn’t take it he lost himself lost the ability to take anything else into his head and he had so many bad images running through his mind he knew he wouldn’t be able to deal with dementors and he knew he was already becoming unhinged. The image of Mary’s body hadn’t left the back of his eyelids and he felt like half a person.

When Sirius confronted him it all came out, all the anger and hurt and crazy and he blamed Sirius, it was Sirius’s idea to make him secret keeper, Sirius’s fault that Mary was gone, dead. That James and lily were gone.

All the anger and hurt and crazy exploded and he yelled and screamed his pain at his friend and he attempted to curse him let out the pain, but there was an explosion and muggles all around dropped dead, still. Others were screaming in pain in fear.

Mary. Mary. Mary.

Mary.

It hurt his chest felt like it was collapsing and on every muggle face he saw Mary.

He pulled a knife he had in his robes and turned it on himself trying to let the pain leave his body,

His finger fell to the ground.

Blood.

Oh it hurt so much.

Mary.

He couldn’t deal with it, the chaos, the pain. He transformed in to a rat and ran for the sewers.

Mary.

He spent the next ten years as a rat, it was easier to deal with the pain that way, easier to survive. He found a nice wizarding family and was treated as a pet.

Mary. Mary. Mary.

Soon he was passed from the older son to a younger one and he was on the Hogwarts express with Harry Potter, James boy, a splitting image of his Hogwarts friend. And so he watched this small boy who had suffered so much and he tried to help in the little ways he could. Kept an eye on the boy always watching and keeping him safe.

Mary.

Soon Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban and the anger, the pain and the crazy started to return.

Mary.

And so he was hunted and hated by one Sirius Black. And one terrible night he became human again for the first time in 12 years.

Anger. Crazy. Pain.

Mary. Mary. Mary.

Harry hated him. Sirius hated him. Remus hated him.

But he still didn’t want to go to Azkaban, not the dementors.

And so he ran. And ran and lived in the sewers until one terrible day when he crossed paths with Barty Crouch jr.

And soon he was put under the imperious curse and was searching for the dark lord.

Peter didn’t recall a lot of the following years of the dark lords return or any of the battle their after but he was getting stronger and was able to fight the curse even just a little.

One thing he did remember was realising that harry potter was in the Malfoy basement and he fought the curse of he was going to save his friends son.

The hand he now had from a ceremony he didn’t remember was cursed to kill him when he overcame the imperious curse, when he broke free. And so with terror in his eyes he fought with his own hand as it inched towards his throat and he hoped to see Mary again as the life was squeezed from him.

Little Peter Pettigrew.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading please leave thoughts and kudos :)


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